Integrity
by neropanchi
Summary: Professional quidditch player, Harry Potter, is a manwhore. There's nothing more to say. Except… that party. That party changed everything. And now he wants ex Death Eater Draco Malfoy. FULL DESCRIPTION INSIDE. MPREG. LM/SS. OOC… kinda.


**Author's Note: I know you guys are waiting for an update for Choose Me. I promise it's on the way. But for your wait. I have another story for you guys that hopefully you will love. Ideas just keep popping in my head! **

Title: Integrity

Summary: Harry Potter, after defeating the Dark Lord, Voldemort, was instantly treated like a God. He had more money than the Queen of England and he led his Quidditch team to the Cup twice already. To put it in simple terms, everyone wanted Harry Potter; in fact, he expected to get anyone he wanted. Girls and guys practically threw themselves at him. Although the former made him cringe in knew famous Harry Potter is nothing but a manwhore. But when he sees Draco Malfoy at a party after nearly 5 years, he finds himself wanting the silver eyed Slytherin. But, Draco is having nothing of it. He has a lot more pride in himself to be another one of Potter's "playthings".

Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter nor its characters. Does not follow canon. At all. Slight AU. Also, if you didn't know, I like to base by fanfictions on a particular song. For this fic, the song is Integrity by Ne-Yo. I am hooked on the song. And it gave me this idea. So...yeah.**

Chapter One: **"I don't settle down, Hermione."**

The hall was filled with the buzz of excitement. The Cannons have ,yet again, earned the Quidditch Cup and it was all thanks to Harry Potter. Being first to get drafted, everyone had big hopes for the saddest team in the whole league. They were sure that with Harry, they would finally be able to win it all. And they were right. In fact, Harry had led them to _two _Cups and currently at the party celebrating their second victory, he was living up the victory.

Everyone seemed to give him a slap on the back in thanks and congratulations. He felt great. Harry was sitting at the biggest table,of course, surrounded by familiar faces, but he couldn't remember any of their names. It didn't matter to Harry, as long as he had people around him that cared about him. He was currently in a conversation with a skinny brunette. He for the life of him could not remember her name. His mind was going to Stancy for some reason.

He shook his head and tried to listen to the words that were leaving Stancy(?)'s mouth. Something about best friends and happiness. Again, it didn't matter. Harry let himself take in the girl in front of him. She had dark brown eyes and extremely short legs,but she was hot, at least. She was still talking, in fact, when Harry interrupted her.

Leaning towards her, he lowered his voice into a seductive whisper. "Hey, what do you say to going upstairs with me?" Stancy's eyes widened, her mouth forgetting her words and forming into a smile.

"I thought you'd never ask, Harry." And with that, Harry took her arm and led her up the stairs. Determined to congratulate himself.

Harry finished feeling unsatisfied. He looked to his left at the sleeping form. She was indeed beautiful, but Harry just didn't feel any attraction towards her. It was no denying that Harry was more attracted towards men. He wasn't fully out, per say, but if anyone were to ask, he'd immediately confirm their suspicions.

With a sigh, he slipped from the bed. Pulling up his pants and trousers.

"Harry?" He ignored the voice and pulled on his shirt, followed by his cloak, strapping on the various belts and accessories that came with his outfit, he turned around.

"What is it?" He knew his voice sounded cold, but he didn't care.

"Where are you going?" Stancy was sitting up in the bed, she had the decency to cover herself, at least. But Harry still felt his face contort into a look of disgust.

"Back downstairs. The party's still going on." He sat on the edge of the bed in order to slip his boots on. A pair of arms slid over his shoulders down his chest.

"Come back to bed, sweetheart." A voice said in his ear. He jerked away and put on the last boot, strapping them in place. He stood up and headed towards the door.

"I'm not your sweetheart, Stancy." He replied. His hands touching the doorknob.

"...It's Shirley." Her voice called out, shaking.

"Yeah. Whatever." Harry replied before slipping out the door.

The musky scent of the party greeted Harry as he made his way down the stairs. The area was pretty big, but Harry felt nothing but claustrophobic as he made his way through the sea of people. Various hands tapping him on the back and clawing at his arms.

"Harry!" He turned around, putting a smile on his face to meet the person who called him. A tall girl with bushy brown hair came walking towards him; a certain broad shouldered redhead had his arm around her.

"Hermione! Ron! What're you two doing here?" He said, genuinely surprised. He knew his best friends were busy with the twins, Mary and Marion. But they always made it to his games. His two favorite kids saying "Go Uncle Harry!" It was a reason-he thought- that he did so well.

"We thought we'd celebrate your second cup, of course, mate." Rom said, releasing his wife to clap Harry on the back. Harry was sure he'd have a bruise by tomorrow morning.

"I'm glad you two are here!" He said genuinely, earning a hug from Hermione and a slight blush from Ron.

"So,how are you and Rachael?" Hermione asked as Harry led them to a vacant table. Harry sighed.

"Who?" Hermione gaped at him.

"Rachael! The girl I set you up with! The one who works with me at the Hospital!" Hermione Granger was a mediwitch. And the best mediwitch of the century, one might add.

"We shagged and then I left the next morning." His brown haired friend gasped in shock and he caught Ron giving him a nod of acceptance before hiding it.

"Harry, that's horrible! You can't keep using girls like that. She really liked you." Hermione sighed. "You're 25, Harry. I would have thought you'd settle down by now." Harry didn't like how every time they saw each other, she would always bring up how single he was.

"I don't settle down, Hermione." Hermione looked at her husband, who as usual, was silent of the matter. With sudden frustration, Harry stood up, the chair giving an unpleasant sound as it scraped the floor. "I'm going to get a drink." He growled before trudging towards the bar.

At that moment, Harry's mind didn't care for the excessive celebration that was for his victory. He didn't stop for the random calling of his name. And he definitely didn't stop when he felt hands on his arm. He just kept forward, his target the bar. He sat on the hard white barstool.

"A butterbeer." Harry called out to the bartender who gave a slight nod before turning around to get the bottle. Harry let out a sigh. Was being single so wrong? He wasn't a bad person, right? Everyone here was his friend. They were here for him and only him. A glass was set down by him.

Harry quickly gulped down the contents. Letting the fluid slid down his throat.

"You wouldn't happen to have pink lemonade, would you?" Harry's attention was grabbed by the smooth, but very familiar voice that was suddenly one seat away from him. The bartender gave a quick nod before turning to grab the drink. As he did, the man to whom the voice belonged to took this time to place his head in his hand, his eyes narrowing in boredom.

The man had long hair so light blonde it looked almost white. It was slicked back in a ponytail with a green ribbon. He was slender, Harry noticed, and from the looks of his legs, very tall.

"Thank you." The male said, taking his drink. In doing do, his sleeve lifted up slightly showing Harry all he needed to see. The dark mark.

There was only one family of death eaters that wasn't prosecuted.

"Malfoy?!"

The male turned towards Harry. His face going through a flash of emotions, surprise, anger, fear. But he landed with a smile.

"Ah, Potter. How are you?" His voice lacked any key for Harry to know what he was thinking.

"What're you doing here? Aren't you on house arrest?" Harry said. Shaking how attractive Malfoy was. His storm cloud eyes lacked any of the malice he was used to seeing.

"I came to celebrate, Hero." Malfoy took another sip of lemonade. "Got off a week ago."

"Wow. That's great." Harry said, too distracted to comment on the nickname.

"I'm sure." Malfoy drawled. He gulped down the rest of his lemonade.

"Can I buy you another drink?" The blonde eyed him, seeming to analyze him with just one quick glance of his stormy gaze before nodding.

"Sure. Another pink lemonade." Harry placed the order before turning his attention back to the blonde.

"You don't drink?" He questioned.

"What are you blabbing about, Hero? I'm drinking right now."

The Quidditch player rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant, Malfoy."

Malfoy grinned slightly before once again setting his head in his hands. "I'm not much of an alcohol person."

Harry stared at Malfoy. The last time he saw him, Malfoy was battling with Harry against Voldemort. In fact, Malfoy stunned Voldemort long enough for Harry to cast the final blow. Malfoy had helped him, and so, Harry had helped Malfoy. He spoke for him at the Malfoy trial. Instead of the family going to Azkaban for life, they were ,instead, placed under house arrest for two years.

Arriving at the trial was a moment Harry would never forget. The look in Malfoy, Draco of course, was a look of burning. For what, he didn't know, but it haunted Harry's mind for two years.

"So, Hero, how are you liking your party?" The blonde asked. Harry thought about if Malfoy was actually interested in whatever answer he gave and a few seconds later he seemed the answer to be 'Yes'.

"It's fine, I guess. All of my friends are here?" Malfoy scoffed at this.

"They all look unfamiliar to me."

"Of course they would be! You were locked inside your little manor for years. " Harry snapped hotly.

"Is that so? Tell me _Harry, " _The Slytherin leaned towards Harry; his voice challenging, daring the green-eyed boy to back down. "Exactly what is that young woman's name right there, with the yellow dress?" Draco tilted his head slightly towards a table where the skinny brunette was. The girl he had just slept with.

"Stancy." Harry said, trying to seem confident, but Draco noted that his eyes gave him away.

"It's Shirley. I talked with her a few moments ago. She's rather heartbroken. Some horrible man fucked her and left." Harry felt his eyes dart back over to the brunette who caught his eyes and gave him a glare of hatred.

"Who would have thought that you, Hero, would be such a manslut." Harry gasped at this.

"I'm not a-"

"Of course not, Potter." Malfoy spat out in his old tone full of spite. His words filled to the brink with sarcasm. "Everyone knows Harry-bloody-Potter has slept with almost half the wizarding population." Malfoy took a quick sip from his sweet beverage one last time before getting up from the stool. "I saw the way you were staring at me, Hero. I won't be one of your playthings."

Harry felt himself flinch.

"Besides, I'm never one for a quick night. Goodnight." Malfoy walked away with a mysterious grace that only a Malfoy can do. Leaving Harry to stare, shocked, at the pale, sweet drink.


End file.
